Come a little nearer! Now we part,
Why should you seem dearer to my heart?

Troublesome, unruly, discontent—
Were you ever truly heaven-sent?

Made of grief and blisses, hopes and fears,
I have known your kisses and your tears.

Joy, when joy compelled you, day by day;
Grief, when duty held you from your way.

Every fancy wooing, false or true;
Every wind pursuing—that is you.

Now the years grow riper—why romance?
Child, we owe the piper for this dance.

Yours is all the riot, pipes and drums—
Now I long for quiet; evening comes.

Evening and candlelight,—I claim my due.
Here by the hearth-flame bright, good-bye to you.

Go you where dreamland lies for girls and boys;
Where vanished butterflies still have their joys.

Wanton, tonight we part, with little ruth;
Yet—once more to my heart! Good-bye, my youth!